


First Times And Pretty Sketches

by Neliore



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Come Swallowing, Conditioning, First Time, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Leashes, Light BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Over the Knee, Punishment, Rimming, Snowballing, Spanking, Teasing, mouth washing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-13
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-01-24 14:44:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1608890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neliore/pseuds/Neliore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First times Satin ordered his Lord Commander to do things, dirty, beautiful things. AKA Jon Snow is a Lord Commander, but inside his bedchamber he is Satin's bitch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Strip

**Author's Note:**

> For ASOIAF Kinkmeme prompt:  
> BDSM with submissive bottom!Jon. Jon Snow is Lord Commander, but inside his bedchamber he is just Satin's pet. I would love some bondage and whipping, and I'm open to pretty much any other kinks as well.
> 
> Like I said, this prompt is so fantastic I have to fill it twice. The first time it filled my mind with all these images I now can't get rid of (not that I really want to, though), and it would have been too long if I've put them all in that one fic, so here it is, a multi-chaptered one (gods!), but with rather short chapters, based on all the dirty and beautiful images that I have here decided to elaborate on, for, ahem, aesthetic reasons.

First time Jon comes to his chamber to find Satin sitting at his desk, _Lord Commander's_ desk, he has had a particularly hard and long day, he can hardly stand and the thought of slumping to his bed is pretty much the only thing keeping him alive.

But as he enters and closes the heavy door behind him, he sees his beautiful young steward lounging in his chair, at his desk, and staring at him with insolence and ... something else.

Jon is tired, and Satin is usually quite dutiful, so he decides to let it go this time, and just walks towards the desk, searching for his cup. Some wine before bed would soothe him. But his cup is resting before Satin. The boy sees Jon looking at it and he picks it up, takes a long sip and then licks his lips and says: ''Strip.''

Jon can hardly believe his ears. He looks at Satin too shocked to be angry. He knows he should be furious, but he is so tired, his head is spinning, he just wishes to lie down, close his eyes and sleep. So he just bites on his lower lip, raising his eyebrows, looking at this beautiful and mad boy sitting at his desk, and thinks.

_He must be mad._

_Did he really just say that?_

_I will let it go unpunished if Satin apologizes and never does it again._

Jon takes a long breath, summons all his harsh and sullen authority and says in a stern and cold tone: ''Satin... I am your Lord Commander.''

Satin doesn't even blink when he takes another sip of wine and looks straight into his eyes, a lewd and rude, most insolent and most beautiful creature. ''Strip... Lord Commander.''

The way flush creeps up to his cheeks upon hearing those words tells Jon he's lost this battle. He swallows, hard. And obeys.


	2. Relax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ''Lord Commander, relax, you must be tired. Lie down, I will take care of you.''
> 
> And Jon is ashamed, so ashamed, but also hard, oh, so very hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will get lot smuttier and dirtier as chapters go. It is me, after all :)
> 
> But these are Jon's first times, so we go slowly.

Jon keeps his eyes closed. He is so ashamed. This situation, his nakedness, his obedience, his _submission_ to this most unreasonable demand, and his body's reaction to it fills him with so much shame he thinks he is all turning red and he can't bear looking at those beautiful knowing eyes. He knows Satin is smiling, even though he can't see him.

_How did he know I would obey?_

_How did he know I would submit?_

_How did he know I would enjoy it so?_

Because, on a strange level, he does enjoy it. His soaring erection is proof enough.

But Satin doesn't do much. He approaches him, his hand slowly brushes against Jon's skin, touching his chest tenderly, and then his shoulders, along the collarbone and then down, slowly circling around his nipples. Jon can feel they are hard too, and he gasps slightly when Satin pinches them ever so lightly.

His gentle touch tickles down the muscles of Jon's abdomen and Jon feels all the little goose bumps on his skin delighting in it. An involuntary moan escapes him and he is now even more ashamed than ever.

Satin guides him to the bed and whispers: ''Lord Commander, relax, you must be tired. Lie down, I will take care of you.''

And he does. He takes very good care of him. In fact, noone has ever taken such good care of Jon before. Satin pushes him gently on his back and starts rubbing his tired muscles. It feels so good, his touch is so warm and gentle, and he is rubbing all the right spots, massaging, pressing, and Jon indeed relaxes to his touch. He _is_ tired, and this is so recuperating, and if he keeps his eyes closed Jon can almost forget that he himself is naked, or rock-hard, so he keeps his eyes closed, pushing the uncomfortable thoughts about the impropriety of this situation out of his head, as Satin massages him caringly.

Then Satin's hands travel down, too far down, and despite his cock twitching its welcome, Jon's hands quickly race to his crotch, covering it. But Satin gives his hands a gentle smack and pushes them away, making soothing, shushing sounds and Jon says his _Pleases_ and _Satins_ and _You can'ts_ , but his body is saying something completely different, and that is the only thing Satin seems to hear, for he gently wraps his soft hand around Jon's length. Gasps and moans and other traitors trick their way out of Jon's mouth, and that is all the confirmation Satin needs. He starts stroking him, gently pulling his skin up, and then down, first slowly but then he speeds up, as he most probably doesn't keep his eyes closed like Jon and can see very well how Jon's hips push slightly but so shamelessly up.

And Jon is ashamed, _so_ ashamed, but also hard, _oh, so very_ hard.

Then Satin squeezes a bit harder, and pulls a bit rougher, and Jon is clenching his eyes tight shut, and he's gritting his teeth, struggling to stay quiet. So he only whimpers slightly as he spends, instead of shouting and screaming with mad pleasure he feels at that moment when his hot seed hits his chest in its powerful gush.

He still keeps his eyes closed, and breathes deep and hard. Then he feels something wet and warm on his skin, and realizes it is Satin, lapping at his seed, cleaning him with his tongue. Jon cries out in desperation. He doesn't want to open his eyes ever again and face his steward. So he keeps them closed, and wishes he was anywhere else than here now.

Satin covers him, tucks him in like a child, and blows out the candles before retreating to his own bed.

Jon takes forever to fall asleep, and when he finally does it is almost dawn and time for him to get up. So he pretends nothing has happened, and leaves his chamber for the safety of the kitchens even before Satin is awake, dreading what may happen come evening.


	3. Good Boy And Yes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon likes to be a good boy, and so he says a lot of yeses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, getting smuttier :)

By the time Jon decides he should really be going to bed and getting some sleep, it is already quite late - he has been delaying the return to his chamber for as long as he could. And he is slightly drunk. He has had a few cups of wine, searching within himself for courage he hoped he found.

But when he gets up the stairs and walks through the door, again, the same scene as last night awaits him - Satin at his desk, sitting, waiting, looking so pretty, and Jon feels weak. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and bolts the door behind him.

Satin is serious. ''You are late.''

And Jon finds himself _apologizing_ even before he realizes he shouldn't be, really.

Satin gets up and walks towards him. Jon feels his heart ready to burst in his chest. He doesn't understand what is wrong with him, because this is obviously so wrong, and he does nothing to stop it. And he _could_ stop it, in an instance. He is stronger, _much_ stronger, and bigger than Satin, his skills with sword are unmatched. Besides, he doesn't even need _any_ weapon to easily overpower his steward who hardly knows how to hold a sword properly and is slim and slender, so delicately built Jon thinks he could snap him in two with just his bare hands.

Yet, as that delicate frame approaches him, Jon again blushes. Hardens, too.

''Lord Commander,'' Satin purrs in his ear and Jon is opening his mouth, but he says nothing, just breathes. If those words caressed his ear and neck, with soft warm breath that carried them, the next thing Satin says hits him like a whip. ''Strip.''

And all the courage he summoned earlier, all the reasons not to, that raced through his mind until a second ago, they all drop, shed to the floor, together with his clothes. Jon feels more naked than he's ever been.

''Good boy,'' Satin whispers his praise, and Jon feels so rewarded, he moans to hear it.

After this first time, he will do just about anything to be a good boy again.

He feels Satin's hands touch his back, short fingernails and soft fingers caress him as they move down to his lower back, and then all the way down to his buttcheeks where they slowly trace circles and lines, making him so unsettled with arousal. Jon has never been touched so gently before. He bites on his lip to stop himself from moaning _yes_ and _more_ and _further down_ and _don't stop._

But Satin does stop, quite suddenly, and smacks his ass very softly, nothing more than a playful pat. ''But you were naughty to be so late.''

He circles around Jon and now stands in front of him. Jon can hardly dare to look. Satin pushes him towards the bed and continues speaking: ''Since this is a first such violation, I will let it go... this time. _But_ , if it happens again... you will have to be punished.''

At these words Jon rises from the bed, feeling quite provoked. He grabs one Satin's hand firmly by the wrist and growls at him angrily: ''Satin...''

But Satin's other hand grabbing his cock, also quite firmly, interrupts him and he only gasps, completely disarmed and slumps back to the bed. Satin says, sternly now: ''Lord Commander, is that clear?''

And Jon closes his eyes, blushing again with shame, as he meekly sighs his first _yes._

Not the last one, though. Because, right after that, Satin is climbing on top of him and kissing him, full on the lips, tongue gently probing inside, small licks tasting Jon's teeth and mouth and his hand is still holding Jon's cock and has now started moving and squeezing. And Jon doesn't even give himself a moment to think how wrong this is, before he opens his lips a bit wider, sticks his tongue deep in Satin's mouth and moans the second of so many _yeses_ that he is now certain are yet to come.

Then Satin start moving down his body, and when Jon feels hot breath on his cock, he thinks he will die with need. He is fighting the urge to lift his hips, trying to save what little dignity he hopes he still has left, he bites on his knuckles to stifle a cry when he feels Satin's mouth enveloping him.

The sensation shouldn't be new to Jon. He has had this thing done to him before. A few times. S _ufficient_ number of times for him to know now that Satin is more than adept, he is bloody _outstanding_ at it. And it shouldn't be a wonder, as that's how he's made a living, but despite expecting Satin to be quite skilled, Jon still never knew something could ever feel _this_ good. He is melting.

Satin licks him from base to top, teases him with his tongue, plays with the slit of his cock where pre-cum is already forming, circles around the tip, then he sucks and swallows him whole, massaging his balls at the same time. He pulls and sucks so hard and just when Jon thinks he can't take it anymore and he will spend, Satin lifts his head and stops. Jon bucks his hips up, chasing the warm feel of that fantastic mouth, but finds only empty air, as Satin smiles and comes up to kiss him. So they kiss as Jon is shamelessly fucking the air, his hand reaching down for his cock. But Satin notices and pushes it away.

Jon whimpers: ''Please.''

Satin's finger moves gently around Jon's navel and starts going down. He whispers: ''Please what, Lord Commander?''

''Please, kiss me, again.''

And Satin kisses his lips.

Jon groans: ''Suck me. Pleeaase.''

And Satin sucks his bottom lip. 

Jon wails: ''No. There. Suck me there.''

Satin is smiling, a wicked little thing. ''Where?''

Jon tries again to reach his cock, but Satin grabs his hands and holds them tight. Jon is exasperated, thrusting his hips high up, finding nothing but cold air. ''You know, please.''

''You want me to suck your cock, Lord Commander?''

Jon blushes through another mumbled _yes._ But Satin is so wicked, he licks Jon's lips mischievously and says: ''I want to hear you say it.''

Jon pleads: ''Satin...''

But Satin is implacable. '' _Say it_... or I will not do it. Ever again.''

And Jon yields. ''Please, suck my cock.'' He whispers, so ashamed. But then so happy and relieved when Satin takes him in his mouth again and resumes his magic.

It doesn't take long after that for Jon to start shaking, and pushing his hips even further up as he spills in Satin's mouth. Then he lies on his bed, spent and ashamed, but when Satin comes up and guides Jon's hand inside his breeches, where his cock is, also hard, Jon rubs it eagerly. When Satin comes, Jon's eyes are tight shut with embarrassment over the pride he feels to have pleased him so. And when his steward murmurs another _good boy_ as he's kissing him, it is not shame that tricks the little tear out of Jon's eye, but joy.


	4. Kneeling And Leashed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knelt easily, but struggled with the leash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know about you, dear people, but the image of Jon Snow on a leash, wheeeew. I mean, wow. I don't even know what I mean. I just do.

First time Satin ordered Jon to kneel, Jon obeyed without even blinking, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. He only remembered much later, when they were already in bed, spent and dozing off, how he'd never done that before.

He rushed to his chamber that evening, not only because he didn't want to be late, but because he yearned for the touches his steward now got him so addicted to. Satin grinned to see him burst inside and lock the door behind him hurriedly. Lord Commander then stood in the middle of the chamber, waiting for his pretty young steward to command him. He needn't wait long.

''Lord Commander, strip.''

Every night it was the same. Jon could've just removed his clothes without waiting to be told to do so. But he craved that command. He longed to hear that soft voice, to see those beautiful lips moving as Satin ordered: ''Strip.'' The last sound, the ''P'' and how he would purse his lips saying it, and the way the air clicked its way out of Satin's mouth, like an invisible whip - Jon couldn't get enough of it.

So, once again, Jon was naked, and Satin satisfied. He circled him, like a cat, observing, just corner of his lips curling upwards, a wicked, most beautiful shadow of a smile. And then he stopped in front of Jon, looking in his eyes. They stared at each other like that, Jon blushing some, but still looking, perplexed with the awkwardness of the situation. It should be so wrong, but it feels so natural.

Then Satin touched his face, and he closed his eyes. Satin whispered: ''Kneel.'' And Jon dropped down to his knees immediately.

''Good boy. Very good.'' And Jon wished to stay kneeling in front of this exquisite creature forever.

*******

 With the leash, he struggled.

Stannis kept him, over some never-ending discussion. Each moment he spent away from the nightly game he played with Satin, ached so deep inside his stomach, he yearned to retreat for the night, but Stannis just went on and on and on. By the end, Jon thought he'd go mad.

He then raced across the yard, stumbled inside his chamber and bolted the door behind him with a deep sigh. He smiled to see Satin at his usual spot, sitting, waiting. Satin, however, frowned a bit, and Jon, even before he was aware what he was doing, apologized for being late, explaining it was King Stannis who kept him. But Satin ignored it. He just ordered his usual ''Strip'' and ''Kneel'' afterwards.

Once Jon was naked and kneeling before him, he saw Satin lift his hand, a looped leather belt in it. He drew the loop over Jon's head, and Jon protested: ''No. I don't want this.''

''Then don't be late next time.'' Satin started tightening the loop.

Jon grabbed the leather with his hand and pulled it, not too much though, but enough to express his dismay. But Satin guided Jon's hand away and continued tightening.

Jon was getting agitated. ''I don't want this, Satin. I am not an animal to be chained.''

Satin looked at him and quite patiently explained: ''You are not being chained, Jon, you are being put on a leash. Besides, I though you Starks _were_ all wolves.''

Jon saw his chance there, so he used it. ''I am not a Stark.''

But Satin said: ''You do have a wolf, though?''

Jon sighed, the leather loop now right next to his skin. ''But I don't keep him on a leash.''

Satin tightened it some more and buckled it. ''You could if you wanted to, cause he's yours. But you don't, because Ghost is one very well behaved wolf. While _you_ are one very naughty Lord Commander. And that's why you have to go on a leash tonight.''

Jon couldn't argue with that. He _was_ late. He just blushed and pouted more as Satin tugged at the belt, guiding him towards the chair.

He had to stay on all fours, sulking, while Satin drank his wine, nibbled at some fruit and nuts and did nothing really, just took his time, enjoying to see Jon leashed and miserable, but still quite hard. He would pat his head occasionally, but apart from that Satin didn't touch him at all that evening. And _that_ was the worst part of his punishment.


	5. You Like Sucking My Cock, Lord Commander?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's hands know this part of Satin very well, his eyes, however, see it for the first time, and his lips - they LOVE it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unless specifically stated otherwise (which never really happens), all rimming in my fics is dedicated to Heloisa :)

By the time he's back in his chamber the following night Jon is feeling so needy. He yearns not just for the sweet touches, but also for being called _good boy_ again. He did his best not to be late, he is, in fact, early. Earlier than Satin, who still has some stewardly duties to attend to.

Jon cannot help but think how awkward this feels, Lord bloody Commander, inside of his own bloody chamber, and unsure if he should sit, in his own bloody chair, or remain standing. Should he undress? Or wait to be told? Which of the two would make him more of a good boy? And why the hell is Satin now taking so long?

He listens to the sounds from the yard below, hoping to catch the sound of the familiar steps climbing the stairs. But he doesn't dare look through the window, he just stands next to the door, anticipation making him nervous.

Then he starts removing his garments, one at a time, simply for lack of anything else to kill the time with. And when, some half an hour later, Satin comes through the door and finds him naked and kneeling, Jon feels his heart swell up to the point of bursting to see the little smirk of surprise become a genuine smile of fondness and affection on his steward's face. Oh, yes, Jon knows now that he's been a _very_ good boy.

Satin purrs: ''Lord Commander'' and walks to him, pulls Jon's head to his thighs and crotch, pressing him onto himself, rubbing against Jon's face, caressing his hair as Jon looks up, smiling.

''Undo my breeches, Lord Commander.''

Jon obeys and is greeted with Satin's half-hard cock. He's never done this before. Sure, he's touched him and rubbed him, but it was always somewhat hidden, either inside the clothes or his eyes were closed. His hands know this part of Satin very well, but his eyes see him now for the first time, and his lips are yet to be acquainted with it. He feels shy, but also special.

Satin pushes his cock further towards Jon's face, touches him gently, on the cheek, on the nose, and stops at the lips. He is fully erect now and he whispers: ''Open up, Jon.''

Jon swallows, feeling how dry his mouth is now, but he opens readily, hot flush burning his cheeks, as Satin slowly guides his cock inside. It is warm and smooth, looks and feels so gentle. Jon licks it, explores with his tongue demurely. Then he covers the tip with his lips, sucks a bit and looks up, searching for encouragement.

And he gets it. ''Yes, like that. Go on, Lord Commander, suck it.''

So Jon continues sucking, trying to imitate what Satin did to him, taking more of his length inside and is rewarded immediately. ''Yes, good, very good.''

He pulls with his mouth, his tongue making small rubbing motions as Satin's cock glides slowly back and forth. Jon can feel his own cock stiffening too. He takes it in his hand, expecting to be stopped, as usually he is not to touch himself without permission, but Satin smiles. ''Oh, you like that, Jon? Yes, rub yourself. You like sucking my cock, Lord Commander?''

Jon moans, he is blushing to hear those words, ashamed and aroused at the same time. Yes, Lord Commander likes sucking his steward's cock. Very much so.

Soon Satin starts pushing his hips forward, fitting more of himself inside Jon's mouth.

Jon looks up again and Satin caresses his cheek gently and says: ''Jon, I want to fuck not only your mouth, but your throat too. It is not easy to take a full length down your throat, and I don't expect you to succeed just yet, in your first attempt, but I want you to give me your best try. Can you do that? Will you try your best for me?''

And Jon nods, receiving another _Good boy_ from his steward. And he does try his best. He opens his mouth wider and leans further onto Satin's cock. Soon he is gagging. Then he moves a bit back, but then attacks again. And gags. Pulls back, catches his breath, and goes at it again. And once more he gags, but he doesn't give up. He looks at Satin again and nods once more, and Satin also then pushes. Jon decides to take it all in even if it kills him. Besides, if Satin can to it (and he can), he should be able to handle it too. So he gags and chokes on Satin's cock, he can feel tears gather in the outer corners of his eyes from the effort, but he doesn't stop.

He lets go of his own cock and places his hands on Satin's hips. Satin is pushing very gently, but Jon pulls him further and further onto himself, harder, he is determined to succeed. He gags and chokes, and gags and chokes, but he sucks and takes the cock deeper with every thrust. And once he presses his nose to the soft fuzz of hair on Satin's crotch, he looks triumphantly up. The look on Satin's face is that of surprise, and delight. And pride. And Jon is beaming, his heart full. He nods once more, and Satin starts speeding up, fucking his mouth.

Jon is holding still, he gags so much but he doesn't retreat, he surrenders his mouth to Satin's cock completely. Soon Satin starts moaning and thrusting faster, wilder, and then Jon feels warm gush hit his mouth. It is warm and a bit salty, but so sweet, so precious and he swallows it all to the last drop.

Satin's eyes are closed and he's panting, lips curled into a smile. He breathes his praise: ''Good, very _very_ good, Lord Commander.''

And he pushes Jon to the bed and starts sucking him. He pulls Jon's legs up and spreads them wide and goes down, so much more down than ever before - a reward, no doubt. Jon is moaning as Satin's fingers wrap around his hard cock and he feels Satin's tongue touch his asshole. His breath is warm and soft on Jon's skin and the tongue tickles him, but he stays still, it feels too good. The tongue licks him, up and down, gently pressing against his entrance and Jon has never been touched there before, but he cannot protest, he doesn't wish to protest, he is in heaven. Satin pushes the tongue inside and licks and sucks and drills and Jon wonders how can it be that something that now seems so natural (and fantastic) has never occurred to him to be at all possible before. He never even knew _this_ particular thing could be done. What a fool he was.

What Satin's tongue does is so rude, so wicked. It touches Jon everywhere, nothing is hidden, nothing is off limits. And Jon feels he's going to faint as the greatest orgasm he's ever had crushes him on his bed, leaving him boneless and half-dead, as Satin slowly kisses his way up to Jon's face, where he stays, snuggled.


	6. Over The Knee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This punishment is not about the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, like I said - this particular punishment is not about the pain. The next one, though, will be ;)  
> (as I've been nice for long enough and can hardly resist being mean again, yes soon)

And then it's days and days of bliss - Jon's ordered to strip, kneel, suck and lick and he delights and excels in it. Until one day, during some heated argument with Bowen Marsh and Maester Aemon, Satin asks Jon some unimportant question and Jon snaps at him roughly. Satin recoils and shuts up, hurt look in his eyes and Jon's heart sinks to see it. He cannot concentrate on the stupid argument anymore, he just wishes to hold the slender body of the sulking boy tenderly and apologize to him with kisses and soft words. He's been rude and it was wrong - whatever made him edgy and agitated was not Satin, he shouldn't have been unkind. The rest of the day they hardly talk at all and Jon's mood darkens.

In the evening he walks to his chamber and finds Satin sitting in Lord Commander's big chair, but it is not at the desk, the chair is in the middle of the room. Jon licks his lips. ''Satin, I am so sorry, it was not your fault, I should have been kinder...''

But Satin just looks at him, expression unreadable. ''Lord Commander, please, approach.''

And Jon walks towards him, his hand tugging at the laces of his shirt. Satin raises his hand and commands: ''No, leave your shirt on.''

Jon gives him a confused glance, but stills his hands by his side.

Satin continues: ''You have, indeed, been a very rude Lord Commander. You must be punished.''

Jon thinks about the leash and sighs, but Satin, clearly, has something else in mind. ''Undo your breeches and get over my knee.''

Jon is so shocked by what he hears he gasps and snorts in disbelief, but Satin is dead serious, not a muscle on his face moves. When Jon still does nothing but stares at him open mouthed, Satin speaks again: ''You wouldn't like it if I have to say that again, Jon.''

Jon's face is red now, he is blushing so furiously, but his hands start unlacing the breeches that drop to his knees once undone. He still hesitates, but a raised eyebrow from Satin and he slowly bends over his steward's knee, positioning himself. Jon thinks he's never felt more embarrassed in his life. This is so humiliating. He is much bigger and stronger than Satin. Satin is slender, and petite even. And yet it's Jon, the bigger and stronger of the two, pulled over Satin's slender and petite knees to be spanked like a disobedient child.

Satin places one hand on his lower back, and the other one on his bare buttocks. Jon welcomes the touch, but he hates the situation he's in. He tries: ''Satin, please?''

But Satin ignores him completely, raises his hand and lands a sharp smack on Jon's toned ass. It doesn't hurt at all, it's ridiculous, but it feels horrible nonetheless. Satin smacks him again, on other cheek, and Jon is biting his lips in shame, wishing this was not happening. Satin rubs his bottom and then smacks repeatedly, saying: ''You... _(SMACK!)..._ have been ... _(SMACK!)..._ very naughty ... _(SMACK!)..._ , Lord Commander. ... _(SMACK!)..._ Very rude. ... _(SMACK!)..._ And rudeness ... _(SMACK!)..._ deserves to be punished... _(SMACK!)..._.''

Jon is gritting his teeth and is feeling both angry and humiliated. Sure, he has been punished like this before, but that was ages and ages ago, when he was just a child. And even then, it only happened a few times. He is not sure he even _remembers_ being spanked over his father's knee. It was _that_ long ago. He remembers the belt and being told to bend over the desk or a bed, and that's how punishment is supposed to be like. It hurts, but it is dignified, and you feel proud to be able to take it like a man. _This_ \- this is humiliating, he is being treated like a little boy, a brat. There is no real pain, and there is definitely nothing to feel proud about.

Satin smacks his ass and keeps on saying how he's been such a bad boy, such a naughty Lord Commander, and Jon feels his heart beating fast, his ears burning and he is feeling as miserable as he's ever been. He's been stripped of all dignity, he thinks how there had never been a punishment more horrible and how he has never been more humiliated in his life. He feels his eyes starting to well up. And he has almost never cried when his father's belt thrashed his backside, but he cannot help it now. He feels tears start to slowly stream down his face at this rather painless but utterly humiliating ordeal.

Satin hears him sniffling and intensifies the spanking. It stings some, but this punishment is not about the pain.

''Yes, ... _(SMACK!)..._ you need ... _(SMACK!)..._ to be spanked ... _(SMACK!)..._ like a naughty... _(SMACK!)..._ little... _(SMACK!)..._ boy... _(SMACK!)..._ , over my knee... _(SMACK!)..._ , because that's ... _(SMACK!)..._ what you are... _(SMACK!)..._. You ... _(SMACK!)..._ can be ... _(SMACK!)..._ Lord... _(SMACK!)..._ Commander... _(SMACK!)..._ all you want... _(SMACK!)..._ , but you are ... _(SMACK!)..._ just ... _(SMACK!)..._ a rude... _(SMACK!)..._ little ... _(SMACK!)..._ boy... _(SMACK!)..._. And rude ... _(SMACK!)..._ little ... _(SMACK!)..._ boys... _(SMACK!)..._ get spanked... _(SMACK!)..._ ... _(SMACK!)..._.''

And then it's just SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! and silent sniffles for a while and Jon is limp over Satin's knees, whimpering quietly, his bottom ever so slightly sore, when Satin stops and starts rubbing his ass, warm and sensitive from the spanking. He soothes him with soft words and gentle caresses. ''All right, hush now, Jon, you're forgiven. You've been punished and we can put it behind us now.''

Jon feels Satin's fingers move between his buttocks and his legs and only then he notices how hard he is. Satin pulls him to stand and smiles at him, starting to stroke his erection. Jon gasps to the familiar and much needed touch. He is still feeling ashamed over the humiliation he was forced to endure, but he is glad to be forgiven. He sniffles: ''I am so sorry, Satin.''

And Satin stands up to kiss him. He is still rubbing Jon's cock while he gently licks the tears from his face and whispers: ''I know you are, my love. I know you are. But it's good now. You're forgiven.''

Jon closes his eyes and relaxes in his hands, release being goaded out of him slowly and gently.


	7. Dirty Mouth Must Be Washed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Lord Commander is a bitch, but so is the conditioned reflex. Good thing Satin knows when to stop some games before it's too late, and is kind enough to do so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The image I have in my mind is THAT pout stuffed with soap. I am mean, but I just can't resist. The pout made me do it.

Next time Satin spanks him across his knees Jon is little less reluctant, but no less ashamed than the first time. He doesn't cry anymore, though. He takes this humiliation, because that's all it is - a humiliation, it doesn't hurt - he takes it in silence, determined to at least appear dignified, if that's at all possible when he's draped like that across his pretty steward's knees, his ass high and exposed, spanked like a child. Again, he spoke unkindly to his steward. 

_Get the damned maps in order, Satin_ , he snarled, and is now being punished for it.

Surprisingly, the thing that bothers him the most is not the spanking. What bothers Jon the most is him being hard. And that he was hard even before Satin started toying with him, rubbing him with his hand and pushing his fingers slowly inside Jon's ass.

Satin torments him thus, he spanks some and then caresses some, and Jon is silent and flushed, trying to ignore the fire in his belly, and trying to make the movements of his hips appear as if they are caused by Satin's hand slapping his buttcheeks. But he knows it is _himself_ grinding, looking for friction, rubbing himself against Satin's leg. But pretending he's being pushed makes it somewhat easier to accept the pleasure he gets. One less thing to feel embarrassed about, and gods know there are so many of them already.

If Satin notices it, and he surely must, he says nothing. Yet. That is another thing, that dread that any moment now he'll be mocked for it by this beautiful boy, so cruel, so sweet.

Jon bites on his lips, so hard he draws blood. He tries to stay silent, not to moan. But he loses that battle, the smallest moan escapes him, and it is so needy, so desperate. Satin stops the spanking and his fingers go inside again, pushing, in and out, and curling, and touching and pressing that spot, and Jon moans again, and again, his release is so close. But what shocks him is Satin pushing something in his mouth just as that wave comes over him, and through all the pleasure he's soaked in he is confused to feel the horrible taste in his mouth as he now breathes through his nose and inhales the sweet clean smell. After he's calmed down, he spits the bar of soap out and is so puzzled he can't even voice his question.

Satin explains: ''A dirty mouth must be washed.''

So they leave it at that.

However, the soap becomes the permanent supplement to the spankings, even if Jon doesn't say anything rude or bad in any way. And Satin finds some reason to spank him _every single day_ for the whole next week. And it is always the same, Jon is spanked, toyed with, he is hard, ashamed, and just as his release hits him his mouth is stuffed with soap bar.

Jon dislikes it, but he endures it without complaint. He wonders, though. _Why the soap?_

But after that one week, when he discovers he's getting an erection every time he washes his hands or his face, every time he bathes, or every time he just as much feels the smell of soap, and then sees Satin snickering over it, it all falls into place. _What a cruel perverted thing you are, beautiful boy._

Jon does not find it funny, though. He pouts and sulks so much and Satin probably feels sorry for him, because he makes him feel extra special that evening, no spanking, no punishment, and definitely no soap. And Jon is surprised when, as Satin slurps at his cock rewarding him with his tongue and he reaches the height of his pleasure spilling his seed in Satin's mouth, he finds himself missing the clean smell and the ugly taste of a soap bar. He feels he's been denied something. Something's lacking. But then Satin comes up to him and kisses him, offering him a mouthful of Jon's own cum, and Jon swallows it all. It is not soap, but it is something, and his mouth is happy to feel it.

Satin doesn't use the soap in their games again, and after few days, Jon asks for it. He feels he needs it, it's been hard for him to come, he feels soap would get him there sooner, better. He begs: ''Please, Satin, please.''

But Satin smiles sweetly and refuses to accommodate that request. Jon feels his frustration grow, but Satin explains: ''Jon, if we use the soap again, after a while you'll never be able to enjoy yourself again without it. And you don't want that, believe me. Now, be a good Lord Commander and suck my cock until you choke on it.''

Jon understands Satin's right and accepts it. He sucks him, takes him whole, deep down inside his mouth, but it is only when Satin is fully inside his throat and his nose presses against Satin's crotch, and there he feels the slight whiff of soap his steward used to wash himself earlier that day, that Jon feels his mind crumble with powerful release washing over him as he keens over Satin's cock. The way Satin looks at him tells him he might know it. He says nothing about that, though. They just cuddle until they fall asleep. And for many months later, Jon still gets instantly hard whenever he catches the scent of soap in the air.


End file.
